Friday, March 03, 2006
Draft #71
It was the autumn of 2002, and I was a bright-eyed sophomore (3rd year of higher education, but the credit total said otherwise) with the world at my fingertips. This was my first year as a transfer student at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee and in order to attend this fine university, I would have to make the daily forty minute drive from my hometown of West Bend. I would be embarking upon a brand new world, and mother, in her concern for her eldest son, wanted a way to ensure that her boy would be OK. And if he was in dire straits (aka stranded on the road in the middle of the ghetto), she wanted to know that as well.
At this point in time, I had not yet completely bought into the whole, cellular phone technology. I was a firm believer in landlines, a telecommunication process that I thought could stand the test of time. I used to think to myself, "Cell phones? Go ahead, not for me. You guys enjoy your brain tumors and roaming charges, I'll just stick with the old reliable." But before I knew it, my brother went out behind my back and hooked my mom and I up with Nokia cell phones that cost about a penny apiece. My mother had ordered my brother to do so since he was the pioneer of our family as far as cellular technology went. For the first few months or so, I was very leery of the product. Sure, I now owned a cell phone, but it was basically for emergency purposes, I wouldn't become of THOSE people. The ones that seemed like they couldn't function without it, or the ones that used their phones in public just to let others know, "Hey, I got a phone, look at me, I'm so cool." I refused to be that person. I used my phone in that initial period of distain as if I was ashamed of it. But, as time went on, I became one with the masses (despite having a phone that was out of date even in 2002, none the less I had a phone). I hadn't seen any news reports about someone undergoing massive-cellular-phone-induced-tumor-removal surgery, so I figured the coast was clear. As the years went on, I noticed that my Zack Morris phone was rather reliable. Others may have had fancier phones with all the bells and whistles, but I never had problems with reception or anything. You could drop it from the top of a house and it may split in two pieces, but alls you had to do was slide that mother of a battery back on and it was as good as new. I got reception on that beast from a basement in Kansas City while calling back home. My phone might not have been able to do a lot things, but what it could do, it did pretty damn well. I still have my phone to this very day, and she gets the job done. Sure, the battery is good for about two fifteen minute phonecalls before it has to be charged again, but she's old, that much is to be expected from a vintage classic like old Bessy.
Bessy and I were almost permantly seperated on a couple of occasions. The first of which was during an opening day tailgate at Miller Park. I was parked on the opposite side of the stadium from where the tailgate was taking place, and that made for a long walk. It was a cold and cloudy day and right about the time the festivities were complete and it was time for me to head back to my car, it started to rain, freezing rain. It was raining knife-cicles. The parking lot pavement almost instantaneously turned into an ice rink and running became even more difficult, especially when you're being pelted in the face with frozen BB's. So me and the guy I gave a ride to the game, were about three forths of the way back to my car when I realized that my phone was missing, it must have fallen out along the way. We retraced our steps, cursing as if we were drunken longshore's men, and the phone was nowhere to be found. Luckily, a day or two later, the person who found my phone called my home number and said they left it at Miller Park's lost and found for me. My girlfriend at the time, just happened to have plans to attend a Brewer game that very week and she picked it up for me, bless her heart. So we were reunited at last, the old girl survived a vicious hail storm and we were happy to have each other once again.
The second such incident occurred at the end of a long night of drinking at River Splash. I had left my monstrosity of a phone in the car since we had some walking to do, and the repetitive pounding my knee would take from keeping the phone in my pocket was something I chose to avoid. Well to make a long story short, at the end of the night, my friend and his lady friend got into an argument, she decided to throw my phone at him, it missed him, and the next thing I know my phone is in the middle of the street in what I thought would have been a hundred pieces (considering how far it traveled), with the only thing I could find being the battery. My phone was a piece of crap, we were all pretty cranky at that point, so we decided to just screw it and go home. It was later found, that the other half of my phone was somewhere in the back of my friend's truck, he returned it to me, and again Bessy and I were reunited.
So we've had some close calls, my phone and I. This fall will be our four year anniversary, but sadly enough, I've received news that this special occasion may never come to be. My mom has recently received a letter from the good people at U.S. Cellular alerting us that if we do not upgrade our phone model within a specified amount of time, they will have to start charging us extra because that model is so far out of date. Well Bessy, I guess this is the end of the road for you and me. Your mere existence has become an inconvience to many and I've got nothing against having my mom pay the extra service fees to keep you around, but I don't think that's the route she's planning on taking. I thank you for your many years of great service and dependability and may the big garbage heap in the sky welcome you with open arms.
# posted by hucklebuck @ 7:20 AM 
Comments:
<< Home
I've been cutting my mom a monthly check for years, so I'm not a complete mooch, but I'm pretty sure the bill wasn't being split 50/50. Gotta love mom.
Screw it, I won't miss that damn phone. Do you know how many lady's phone numbers I've missed out on because I was too embarrassed to take my phone out in public? I'm not sure myself, but it has to be in the upwards of 2 to 3.
Plus, it weighs you down when being summoned over by a group of nice young ladies. I mean, you're carrying an extra 1.2 pounds there, that has to be exhausting while trying to get through a bar and over to the group of snickies which just eyed you up. I guess we'll find out tonight at Buckhead
I'm heavily stocking the apartment for this weekend with booze and booze related products, so you better take the grand tour. I don't care if it's tonight or tomorrow, but you're making an appearance.
oh, I'll be there tomorrow if the Duke/UNC game will be displayed prominently in the living room and I am allowed to cheer for the better blue.
Post a Comment
<< Home
